


Time to Undress: Part 2

by islasands



Series: Lambski [73]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love and desire make tracks that are as ephemeral and beautiful as the silver tracks of a snail. Or the sound of summer rain. Or the brevity of life. Or the enduring optimism of hunger.</p><p>This is a work in progress but I thought I would post it regardless. I might do a part 3. </p><p>The soundtrack is rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time to Undress: Part 2

"Bliss Coded Sound: Rain"

 

yogicsound.com

 

  


 

 

He bent over to examine the leopard slug. It was a big one, as long and fat as his middle finger, and its ‘leopard’ markings showed up clearly as light blotches on its dark grey skin. He’d seen them before on the paving stones leading up to the porch. They came out at night. They were not attractive looking creature but then legless things such as worms or slugs or snakes have a inbuilt repulsion factor for bipedal creatures. He imagined picking it up and laying it on his palm. How cold and slimy its gelatinous foot would feel. How compactly moist and boneless the properties of its being. And ugh, it would exude its trail making substance onto his hand. No, he could not and would not pick it up. His fascination with it did not extend to making contact. 

_He lay back and put his hands behind his head and watched Sauli undress. He himself was still fully clothed. He was still wearing shoes. He smiled at how unselfconscious Sauli was. He genuinely couldn’t give a shit about being naked in front of anyone. And come to think of it, he was forever stripping off. Even when it was cold he’d still wander round the house or garden shirtless, or just in his undies. Nature boy. In love with the sun. In love with water. In love with him._

What will happen now, he asked himself. The slug had found a small snail in its path and the snail, despite its tentacular eyes scanning to and fro as it slowly moved along, seemed to have no idea that the slug was menacingly close. In fact it turned slightly in its path and began heading straight for the slug. Compared to the slug the snail was a pretty little thing, its foot a pale silvery grey, flecked with tiny white dots. It was the shell that made all the the difference. A band of fine black and tan stripes ran over the top of it and the sides were decorated with perfect scrolls. And the eyes were delicate, almost humorous in the strangeness of their design. The tops of their slender, waving, see-through stalks were embedded with tiny black pupils. What was the point of them? How could sight ever be of benefit to a creature that cannot run, that can only slide along slowly, leaving a tell-tale glaze of its footprint whereever it goes?

_Sauli had his back to him as he pulled down his pants. He had a beautiful back. His buttocks were not pronounced, their contours and creases showing the natural layerings and articulations of muscle, fat and bone working seamlessly together. Even when clenched the shadows formed by the creases and dints were smooth, not sharp. His favorite thing ever was the line of the rift separating the cheeks. It was such a clean and perfect line. He liked to press the cheeks open so that he could trace that line with his tongue. He would begin by running the rigid tip of it around the depression of his anus and then, flattening and softening its muscle as he went, run it slowly up to his coccyx. Sometimes he wanted to make the journey longer and he would move down the bed and draw Sauli’s legs tightly together and place his head on the narrow gap between his calves and slowly move his head up his legs, pushing his brow against the gap between them, but not so hard that the pressure could make them divide. And then, when he felt the rise of Sauli’s buttocks on the top of his head, he would grasp at his buttocks with both hands and pull them apart slightly, allowing him to bury his face between them and search for his anus with his tongue. And having located it he woud go on to rediscover it again and again, running the tip of his tongue around the tightly furrowed skin around his anus, forcing it inside to experience the resistance of his perineal muscles, withdrawing it finally in a wash of his saliva that he then dragged up to the finish line of his tail bone, digging his thumbs into the soft flesh lying on either side of his track._

_It was an action that more than any other expressed the tentative nature of his quest for love. All of his being felt stripped down to its bare, primitive essentials of coveting, possessing, and relishing what he has won for himself. He had obtained territory, food, shelter, a mate. Now he was making sure of it, keeping it safe from competitors, examining it with proprietary care. Exultant, he would drink in the earthy, slightly feculent smell between Sauli’s legs. It was both sour and sweet, its notes of urine, excrement, and sweat mixed with rather than removed by the smell of soap. It was the smell of willing surrender, not conquest, and not just Sauli’s surrender either, but also his own. Both were giving up the power of sanction that eyes wield in face to face encounters. They were coming together blind. The organs for speech and for shitting were transforming their everyday means and purposes of expression to do and say something else. Like dirt giving life to the roots of plants or headlands burying their faces in the sea._

He went back inside the house, leaving the slug and the snail to conduct their private affairs in private. As it happened, the slug met the advance of the snail with a slow,engulfing embrace. The snail withdrew into its shell but that was a mistake. The slug clambered over its shell and used its weight to knock it over. The snail's glue-like exudation was not sufficient to keep it upright. The slug burrowed its head into the the cavity of the shell and began to gnaw at the snail. There was no escape. The slug visibly swelled as its meal was ingested. While it was eating it began to rain. It was summer and the rain drops were large. They splattered around the slug and snail leaving blotches that resembled the slug’s colorings. After a while the blotches joined and the concrete was blackened all over. The slug was not bothered. It calmly ate its dinner while the water swilled around its foot.

_‘It’s raining,” Adam said. Sauli came to the bed and looked down. “You’re the most beautiful man in the world,” he said. He bent over and began to undo Adam’s belt. Adam placed his hand on the back of Sauli's head. He wanted to say something that would convey the depths of his feelings for Sauli. His happiness at that moment was such that he couldn’t remember any of his other reasons for existing. They were inside a room in their own house. It was raining on the roof of their house. They could make love whenever they liked. They could patter down the hall in bare feet and eat and drink things in the kitchen. They could fall asleep and wake up in their own bed. They could part and reunite as often as they wished._

_“Your hair is so wavy,” he said. He smiled at himself for what he had finally managed to say. Sauli looked up at him. “You are mine,” he said coolly, as a mere statement of fact._

In the morning the slug was gone. The snail shell lay on its side, empty of its contents. It was a sunny day, fresh with the smell of a garden that has been drenched by rain. 

 


End file.
